DUPLICATE 

(     i-' 

01934' 
-  Y.  S.  L* 


« , 

\ 


POEMS 


BY 


H.    LADD    SPENCER 
II 


BOSTON: 

PHILLIPS,  SAMPSON  &  Co. 
1850. 


b     ^> 
V 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1850,  bj 

H.  LADD  SPENCER, 
ID  tba  Clerk'a  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  State  of  VermooS, 


G.  A.  TUTTLE,  PRINTER,  RUTLAND,  TT. 


TO 

HON.  DANIEL  P.  THOMPSON, 

AUTHOR 
OF 

THE  QREEN  MOUNTAIN  BOYS,  &C.;  &C. 

THIS 

VOLUME 

IS   RESPECTFULLY   INSCRIBED 
B7 

THE    AUTHOR. 


PUBLISHERS'  NOTE. 

The  Publishers  of  this  volume  think  it  may  not  be 
inappropriate  for  them  to  say  that  most  of  the  poems 
which  follow  were  written  in  the  days  of  the  author's 
earliest  boyhood.  The  poem  with  which  the  collection 
commences,  was  composed  in  his  twelfth  year,  and  many 
of  the  others  at  a  period  little  less  remote. 

Boston,  March  20,  1850. 


CONTENTS. 


Pago 

Proem,                 -  9 

The  Deserted  Domicil.       -  11 

Night  on  the  Mountains,       -                 -        -  13 

A  Farewell,      -  15 

We  roved  along  the  river's  shore,  17 

Dirge,       -  19 

A  Ballad,     -                                                    -  21 

Farewell,  thou  Land  of  Dreams,                 •  24 

Passing  Away,       -  26 

Isabel,      -  29 

Granite  Hills,                 31 

Song  of  the  Desolate,        -  33 

A  Lament,           - 35 

Song,        -  37 

My  Maiden  Aunt,                                            -  39 

An  Epistle,      -  43 

Once  did  I  wander  o'er  a  mountain  height   -  46 

The  Spring  hath  come  again—  the  glorious  Spring,  47 


b  CONTENTS. 

Ours  was  a  lowly  cot  among  the  hills,  48 

A  Benediction,  49 

The  Dream  of  Life  is  Over,  -  51 

When  Summer's  hues  Depart,  -  53 

Canzonet,     -  55 

Shadows,                    -  57 

Similies,        -                          -  59 

Mutability,  61 

To  ,  -      63 

Oh!  Memory  cease  awhile,  65 

The  Years,   -  -      67 

The  World  of  Dreams,      -  69 
''And  White  hands  in  the  Distance,"    -        -      72 

Spring,      •  73 

We  are  Brothers,  -      75 

Mary,       -  77 

An  Extract,  -      79 

Sleighing  Song,  81 

Song  of  the  Printer,      -  -       83 

Alone,      -  86 

Graziella,      -  -       87 

When  I  left  my  native  Mountains,     -  89 

To  ********        ...  .      91 

Ella,  92 

Adele, 94 


PROEM. 


With  a  sad  and  \melancholy  tone 

O'er  hills  and  vales  the  night  winds  sweep  ; 
O'er  silent  dells  and  mountains  lone, 
And  forests  deep. 


Away,  away  the  leaflets  fly — 

Emblems  of  the  departing  year — 
Soaring  in  the  dim  blue  sky 

They  disappear. 


10  PROEM. 

The  flowers  are  dead  that  bloomed  in  Spring, 

The  birds  have  flown  the  joyless  vale, 
And  streams,  once  glad,  are  murmuring 
A  mournful  tale. 


When  a  few  more  years  have  passed  away, 

When  a  few  more  joys  and  griefs  we  've  known. 
To  us  will  come  a  solemn  day — 

Autumn,  our  own. 


11 


THE  DESERTED  DOMICIL. 


It  stands  alone, 

And  sadly  moan 
The  night^winds  through  the  hall, 

Where  the  ivy  wreathes 

And  the  adder  breathes, 
And  the  grey  moss  decks  the  wall. 

It  stands  alone, 

And  voices  gone 
Are  echoing  there  to  night,— 

And  the  early  dead 

Return  and  tread 
Those  halls  in  the  pale  moonlight. 


12  THE   DESERTED   DOMICTL. 

It  stands  alone, 
With  moss  o'ergrown, 

And  memories  sad  are  there,- 
The  lamps  are  out, 
And  the  merry  shout 

Dies,  on  the  solemn  air. 


The  long  grass  sighs 
Sad  symphonies 

'Mong  those  emblems  of  decay- 
It  stands  alone 
Like  a  friendless  one, 

And  soon  'twill  pass  away. 


13 


NIGHT  ON  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


'Tis  midnight  on  those  mountains  gray — 
The  stars  look  from  yon  depths  of  blue, 

And  music  sweet  the  night-winds  play 
Among  those  blossoms  wet  with  dew, 

But  Thought  flies  back  to  other  years, 

And  beautiful  the  Past  appears. 


Alone,  yet  not  alone  am  I, — 

The  loved  and  lost  are  gathering  near, 
Forms  that  long  since  did  droop  and  die, 

In  fancy,  as  of  old  appear, — 
And  well  known  voices  whisper  low, 
Kind  memories  of  long  ago. 


NIGHT   ON    THE   MOUNTAINS. 

0  !  stay,  ye  blessed  visions  stay — 
I  would  not  that  ye  should  depart, 

Ye  bear  me  to  life's  early  day — 
Sweet  is  your  influence  on  my  heart, 

Linked  is  the  Present  with  the  Past — 

Long  may  the  bright  illusion  last. 


15 


A  FAREWELL. 


Oh,  gently  flow 
Where  violets  blow, 

Thou  wild,  enchanting  river, 
I  Ve  listened  long 
To  thy  sweet  song, 

But  now  farewell  forever. 


The  purple  bells 

In  mossy  dells 
In  spring-time  bloom,  sweet  river, 

And  on  thy  breast 

With  wavelets  drest, 
The  sunbeams  lightly  quiver. 


16  A   FAREWELL. 

But  by  thy  side 

At  eventide 
As  in  days  passed  forever, 

It  may  not  be 

To  roam  by  thee, 
3Iy  own,  my  mountain  river. 

Yet,  gently  flow 
Where  violets  blow, 

Thou  wild,  enchanting  river, 
'T  is  not  for  me 
To  dwell  by  thee,— 

Farewell,  farewell  forever. 


17 


WE  ROVED  ALONG  THE  RIVER'S  SHORE. 


We  roved  along  the  river's  shore, 
And  left  our  footprints  in  the  sand, 

And  days  departed  pondered  o'er, 
As  there  we  wandered  hand  in  hand. 


We  gazed  upon  the  waters  bright 

And  dreamed  more  dreams  than  I  may  tell, 
Of  joys  long  lost  in  sorrow's  night — 

Of  childhood  haunts  we  loved  so  well. 


18  WE   EOVED   ALONG   THE.KIVER's   SHORE. 

We  roved  along  the  river's  shore, 

Our  cheeks  by  the  cool  breezes  fanned- 

Our  footprints  there  are  seen  no  more — 
Our  names  are  blotted  from  the  sand. 

Oh  will  the  memory  so  depart, 
Of  those  unclouded  days  of  yore? 

No  !  friendship's  fire  within  the  heart 
Will  burn  till  life  is  o'er. 


19 


DIRGE. 


In  the  cold  silent  grave 
A  youthful  form  is  lying, 

O'er  her  wild  flowers  sweetly  wave, 
And  gentle  winds  are  sighing. 

\ 

A  being  fair  and  pure, 
Of  brighter  regions  telling, 

Hath  left  this  world  unsure 
For  a  more  abiding  dwelling. 


20  DIRGE. 


And  far,  far  above 

This  world  of  pain  and  sorrow, 
In  regions  fraught  with  love, 

Where  grief  comes  not  with  the  morrow. 


In  realms  of  endless  light, 
Where  friends  are  parted  never, 

Where  naught  our  hopes  can  blight, 
She  has  gone  to  dwell  forever. 


'T  is  well  she  passed  away 

While  hope  and  love  were  blooming, 
Ere  she  saw  her  joys  decay, 

Or  clouds  the  future  glooming. 


We  know  she  is  happy  now, 
And  will  happy  be  forever, 

That  heart  may  feel  the  pangs  of  wo 
Never,  oh  never. 


21 


A  BALLAD. 


Oh  Jessie  'neath  this  willow  tree 

Let  us  repose  awhile, 
And  with  a  song  of  olden  time 

The  sunset  hour  beguile. 

Lord  Ronald's  lofty  castle  stood 
Beside  the  sparkling  Rhine, 

And  with  retainers  brave  and  good 
Lord  Ronald  quaffed  his  wine. 


22  A    BALLAD. 

A  bold  and  fearless  knight  was  he, 
And  with  the  sword  and  lance, 

He  ne'er  had  yet  an  equal  met 
In  all  the  wars  of  France. 


Lord  Ronald  raised  his  cup  on  high, 
The  revellers  held  their  breath, 

And  trembled  as  he  said  "I  drink, 
Defiance  unto  Death." 


The  wine  was  quaffed,  Lord  Ronald  laughed 

"In  battle  and  in  storm, 
Thy  power  to  me  as  naught  hath  been, 

Now  come  in  any  form." 


A  chill  passed  o'er  the  revellers'  hearte, 
Their  lips  refused  to  speak, 

A  deathly  pallor  overspread 
Each  dark  and  hardened  cheek. 


A    BALLAD.  23 

But  still  they  quaffed  the  ruby  wine 

And  loud  the  beakers  rung, 
And  many  a  song  of  olden  time 

Was  by  the  revellers  sung. 

And  lightly  flew  the  hours  away, 

Till  song  and  jest  were  o'er, 
Till  Konald's  voice  so  bold  and  gaj 

Yvras  echoed  there  no  more. 


And  when  the  beams  of  morning  thro' 
Lord  Ronald's  hall  were  shed, 

All,  all  was  silent  there,  for  aye, 
The  revellers  were  dead. 


FAREWELL  THOU  LAND  OF  DREAMS. 


Farewell,  farewell  thou  land  of  Dreams, 
Where  Youth  and  I  together  dwelt ; 

Could  I,  where  flow  those  mystic  streams 
But  feel  once  more  as  I  have  felt. 

Could  I  those  wandering  streams  beside 
But  dream  life's  tranquil  hours  away  ; 

Could  I,  at  noon  and  eventide 
Here  roam,  as  in  life's  early  day. 


FAREWELL  THOU  LAND  OP  DREAMS.        25 

Farewell,  farewell,  thou  land  of  Dreams, 
The  DREAMER  sighs  his  last  adieu : 

Mountains  and  vales  and  murmuring  streams, 
Scenes  which  my  early  childhood  knew, 

Fond  memory  oft  will  turn  to  trace 
The  haunts  of  my  unclouded  hours; 

When  this  heart  was  Hope's  dwelling  place 
And  all  Life's  paths  were  strewed  with  flowers. 


26 


PASSING  AWAY. 


'T  is  sung  by  the  bee 

In  the  flowery  dell, 
?T  is  proclaimed  by  the  deep  toned 

Sabbath  bell. 


'T  is  lisped  by  the  pale  leaves 
When  Autumn  is  gray, 

Passing  away, 
Passing  away. 


PASSING  AWAY.  27 

The  streams  that  flow 

Down, the  mountains  steep, 
The  flowers  that  blow 

In  the  valleys  deep, 


The  birds  that  sing 

On  the  bloomy  spray, 
All  tell  us,  that  we  are 

Passing  away. 


And  the  stars  that  beam 
In  yon  distant  skies, 

So  sweet  wo  dream, 

They  are  angel  eyes, 


And  the  clouds  that  over 
The  mountains  play,. 

Breathe  sadly  and  softly 
Passing  away. 


28 


PASSING  AWAY. 


And  there  are  voices 

Low  and  still, 
That  do  the  heart's 

Wild  throbbings  quell 


For  they  whisper — "ye 
In  a  happier  day, 

May  meet  with  those 

Who  have  passed  away." 


29 


ISABEL. 


The  night  wind  sigheth 
Where  Isabel  lieth, 

The  willow  droopeth 
Above  her  head  ; 

And  the  rose-bush  stoopeth 
Where  Isabel  lieth, 
As  if  to  kiss  her  in  her  cold  bed. 


so 


ISABEL. 


The  tear  drop  falleth, 
For  memory  ealleth 

The  loved  and  cherished 
To  us  again ; 

But  she  hath  perished, 
And  low  shelieth, 
Far  from  this  cold  world's  blight  and  pain 


31 


GRANITE  HILLS. 


Farewell,  farewell,  ye  Granite  Hills, 

That  tower  majestic  proud  and  high, 
Farewell,  farewell,  ye  mountain  rills, 

That  answer  to  the  wind's  low  sigh ; 
Farewell,  ye  skies  so  deep  and  blue, 

Ye  white  clouds  floating  gaily  there, 
Farewell  ye  hearts  so  warm  and  true, 

Whose  friendship  I  am  proud  to  share. 


32  GRANITE   HILLS. 

Farewell  ye  rivers  deep  and  clear, 

Entranced  I've  watched  your  silver  tide, 
Farewell  ye  elms  that  proudly  rear 

Your  branches  by  the  mountain  side, 
Farewell  thou  lake  whose  waters  blue 

My  fragile  boat  did  safely  bear, 
Farewell  ye  hearts  so  warm  and  true 

Whose  friendship  I  am  proud  to  share. 

Farewell,  a  last,  a  fond  farewell, 

To  hill  and  valley,  rock,  and  grove, 
I've  loved  you  all,  I've  loved  you  well 

And  ye  have  all  repaid  my  love ; 
Oft  in  my  dreams  may  I  review 

Those  scenes  so  beautiful,  so  fair — 
Farewell,  ye  hearts  so  warm  and  true, 

Whose  friendship  I  am  proud  to  share. 


33 


SONO  OF  THE  DESOLATE 


Low  burns  tho  lamp, 

Soon  't  will  expire, 
Dim  shadows  are  gathering  near, 
The  night  air  is  damp, 

We  have  no  fire, 
What  desolation  is  here. 

Pale  grows  the  cheek, 
Faintly  the  heart 
Beats  like  a  muffled  drum, 
Vain  't  were  to  speak 

Of  the  joys  that  depart, 
Or  the  griefs  that  in  legions  come. 


34  60NG  OP  THE  DESOLATE. 

Faintly  the  blast 

Through  the  casement  sighs, 
Like  the  voice  of  the  early  dead, 
And  the  shadows  cast 

Before  our  eyes, 
Like  the  pall  o'er  our  bright  hopes  spread. 


Oh,  how  have  we  lived, 
And  how  have  bled, 
And  how  have  suffered  below, 
And  how  havo  we  grieved 

O'er  visions  fled. 
Yet  doomed  no  solace  to  know. 


Low  burns  the  lamp, 

Soon  't  vail  expire, 
Dim  shadows  are  gathering  near, 
The  night  air  is  damp, 

We  have  no  fire,     /  . 
What  desolation  is  here. 


35 


A  LAMENT. 


The  lamp  of  Life  is  growing  dim, 

The  golden  bowl  is  well  nigh  broken, 
And  soon,  alas,  too  soon,  each  token 
That  might  remind  the  world  of  him, 
Will  pass  away,  and  he  no  more 
Will  tread  with  us  this  barren  shore. 

The  eye  that  once  so  brightly  shone, 
Is  sunken  now  and  faded, 
And  the  brow  by  dark  locks  shaded, 
Is  pale  and  cold,  and  far  is  flown, 
The  happy  laugh,  the  cheerful  smile, 
That  did  long  since  our  griefs  beguile. 


36  A  LAMENT. 

And  we  must  quickly  part  with  him, 

Who  shared  with  us  our  humble  dwelling. 
And  with  grief  our  hearts  are  swelling, 
And  our  eyes  with  tears  are  dim, 
For  our  hopes  all  centered  were 
In  him,  who  leaves  us  to  despair. 


37 


SONG. 


Not  a  leaf  on  the  tree,  not  a  flower  in  the  wildwood, 
Where  so  joften  we  roved  in  the  glad  days  of  childhood, 
Not  a  bird  on  the  bough  that  bends  over  the  stream, 
That  danced  in  the  spring  'neath  the  sun's  mellow  beam. 


The  leaves  that  were  green  when  the  summer  was  here, 
'Neath  the  cold  blast  of  autumn  are  withered  and  sere, 
And  the  calm  azure  depths  of  the  clear  summer  skies, 
No  more  meets  the  gaze  of  our  sorrowing  eyes. 


38  SONG. 

Not  a  leaf  on  the  tree,  not  a  flower  in  the  vale, 
How  cold  and  how  chill  is  the  autumnal  gale, 
But  we'll  heed  not  the  changes  that  follow  so  fast, 
In  our  hearts  the  sweet  summer  forever  will  last. 


39 


MY  MAIDEN  AUNT. 


My  Maiden  Aunt !  I  speak  of  her 
With  reverence,  for  she 

Is  always  gentle,  always  kind 
Especially  to  me. 


I  will  not  tell  her  age,  for  that 
Might  cause  her  to  forget 

To  welcome  me  when  next  I  call— 
Her  name  is  Margaret. 


40  MY  MAIDEN  AUNT. 

She  is — but  I  can  never  tell 
Her  virtues  —  she  is  one 

Who  prayeth  well  and  worketh  well 
For  all  beneath  the  sun. 


She  is  the  friend  of  Sorrow's  child, 
The  poor  can  but  rejoice 

Whene'er  they  hear  the  gentle  tones 
Of  my  aunt  Margaret's  voice. 


She  contribute  her  little  mite 

To  send  the  gospel  forth, 
And  prays  that  soon  it  may  be  taught 

To  every  soul  on  earth. 


But  she  is  old  !    (forgive  me  Aunt) 

I  do  not  mean  to  say 
Her  cheek  hath  lost  its  youthful  bloom, 

Or  that  her  hair  is  gray. 


MY  MAIDEN   AUNT.  41 

For  were  her  cheek  a  little  pale, 

Her  hair  as  white  as  snow, 
You  know  a  Maiden  Aunt  would  think 

It  wrong  to  say  'twere  so. 

My  Maiden  Aunt !  't  was  she  who  o'er 

My  infant  cradle  bent, 
And  to  each  tone  and  motion  vague 

A  graver  meaning  lent. 


'T  was  she  that  wreathed  my  brow  with  fiowcra 

That  in  the  thicket  sprung, 
And  bade  me  listen  to  the  notes 

The  forest  minstrels  sung. 


'Twas  she  who  taught  mo  first  to  read. 
From  her  I  learned  to  pray, 

'Twas  she  that  jbade  me  ne'er  to  roam 
In  Error's  paths  away. 


42  MY  MAIDEN  AUNT. 

My  Maiden  Aunt!  Heaven  bless  her  heart 

And  strew  her  path  with  flowers, 
THERE  ARE  FEW  AUNTS  LIKE  MAIDEN  AUNTS 

IN  THIS  GREAT  WORLD  OF  OURS, 


43 


AN  EPISTLE. 


In  eighteen  hundred  forty-nine, 
('Twas  near  the  dawn  of  'fifty) 

The  Engine  like  a  demon  rushed 
Down  by  our  village  thrifty. 


There  was  a  great  commotion 
With  shriek  and  roar  and  rattle 

It  darted  swift  as  lightning  by 
The  flying  geese—and  cattle. 


44  AN    EPISTLE. 

The  lawyer  dropped  his  book  and  ran, 

Forgetful  of  his  case, 
The  doctor  laid  aside  his  pills, 

And  started  on  the  chase. 


The  merchant  left  his  customer, 
And  rushing  to  the  door, 

He  gazed  about  as  if  he  ne'er 
Had  seen  the  world  before. 


And  our  good  parson  as  he  mused 

In  quietness  at  home, 
Lifted  his  voice,  and  cried  "  the  day, 

The  judgement  day  has  come." 


There  was  a  great  commotion  too 
Among  the  children  small, 

They  lifted  up  their  voices  in 
One  "simultaneous"  squall. 


AN    EPISTLE.  45 

Around  the  Depot  gathered  crowds 

Of  people,  young  and  old, 
And  some  appeared  exceeding  hot, 

Although  the  day  was  cold. 


It  was  a  glorious,  glorious  day 
When  the  Engine  came  along, 

And  the  wise  ones  of  our  village  say 
'Twill  be  remembered  long. 


46 


SONNET  I. 


Once  did  I  wander  o'er  a  mountain  height 
When  Nature,  Spring's  sweet  smiling  aspect  wore ; 
And  gazing  down  upon  the  vale  before, 

A  scene  all  clothed  in  beauty  met  my  sight 

A  gentle  river  there  was  glancing  bright, 

And  o'er  its  banks  the  beech  and  willow  hung, 
And  lightly  hi  the  breeze  their  branches  swung, 
Casting  fantastic  shadows  by  its  side. 
0,  scene  of  beauty,  I  enraptured  cried, 
As  yon  bright  stream  may  life's  fleet  moments  glide ; 

Passing  so  gently  on  its  quiet  way 

Kissing  the  flowers  that  on  its  borders  grow 
Meeting  new  beauties  in  its  onward  flow 

So  may  I  pass  life's  calm  unclouded  day. 


47 


SONNET 


The  Spring  hath  come  again — the  glorious  Spring, 

And  faery  tones  are  floating  on  the  breeze  • 
Flowers  in  the  vale  their  leaves  are  opening, 

And  crimson  buds  are  swelling  on  the  trees. 

The  sky  is  blue,  and  oh  !  the  sun's  bright  beams 
To  hill  and  vale  a  golden  hue  bestow 

The  river  murmurs  like  a  voice  of  dreams 
As  thro'  the  vale  its  crystal  waters  flow. 
I  love  the  Spring— I  love  those  valleys  green — 

Those  sweet  wild  flowers  that  in  the  forest  grow ; 
For  beauty  hovers  o'er  each  rural  scene 

And  many  a  charm  to  nature  doth  bestow ; 
Year  follows  year ;  still  nature  yields  her  store — 
But  life's  sweet  Spring  returneth — nevermore. 


48 


SONNET  III. 


Ours  wag  a  lowly  cot  among  the  hills, 

"Where  noise  and  tumult  never  yet  were  known, 
With  gray  old  moss  the  roof  was  all  o'ergrown ; 
And  many  a  vine  around  the  windows  low, 
In  wild  luxuriance  was  wont  to  grow ; 
And  violets  blue — and  golden  daffodills 

With  their  sweet  breath,  perfumed  the  mountain  air, 
Without  one  thought  of  future  joy  or  care , 
Those  summer  hours  departed — for  to  see 
Earth  clothed  in  beauty  was  a  joy  to  me, 
Beyond  expression.     Like  the  stream 
That  no  obstruction  meets — or  like  a  dream 
The  days  and  years  sped  on.     But  change  hath  come, 
Lonely  I  wander,  far,  oh,  far  from  home. 


49 


i  BENEDICTION. 


orod  be  with  thee  !  gentle  being — 
May  thy  path  with  flowers  be  spread ; 

May  He,  who  is  all,  all  seeing, 
Shower  his  blessings  on  thy  head. 


God  be  with  thec  !  lightly,  lightly 
May  life's  rosy  hours  depart, 

May  those  eyes  e'er  beam  as  brightly, 
E'er  as  gladly  beat  thy  heart. 


50  A   BENEDICTION. 

God  "be  with  thee !  may  Hope  ever 
Shed  her  brightness  round  thy  way  ; 

From  the  paths  of  Virtue,  never 
May  thy  footsteps  idly  stray. 

God  be  with  thee  !  gentle  being, 
When  the  hour  of  death  is  conic, 

May  He  who  is  all,  all  seeing, 
Take  thee  to  his  heavenly  home. 


51 


THE  DREAM  OF  LIFE  IS  OVEK. 


The  dream  of  life  is  over ! 

Lay  her  down  to  rest, 
Where  the  snow-white  clover 

May  blossom  on  her  breast. 


We  have  loved  her  ever — 

Our  only  hope  and  pride- 
Alas,  that  death  should  sever 
Our  darling  from  our  side. 


52  THE    DREAM    OE    LIFE    IS    OVER. 

The  dream  of  life  is  over  ! 

And  all  our  tears  are  vain — 
How  could  we  choose  but  love  her — 

But  wish  her  back  again  ? 

The  days  are  dark  and  lonely 

That  once  were  bright  and  fair, 

For  she — our  hope — our  only — 
Hath  left  us  to  despair. 


53 


WHEN  SUMMER'S  HUES  DEPART. 


When  Summer's  liues  depart, 

And  Autumn's  days  draw  near, 
Old  memories  thrill  the  heart 
And  faded  forms  appear. 

The  flowers, 

The  bowers, 

The  golden  hours, 
The  hours  that  flew  so  lightly, 

The  eyes, 

The  dyes 

Of  sunset  skies, 
The  hearts  that  beat  so  lightly, 


64 


When  Summer's  hues  depart, 
And  Autumn's  tints  appear, 

Old  memories  thrill  the  heart, 
And  wake  affection's  tear. 


When  solemn  night  descends 
O'er  silent  vale  and  river, 
When  day  with  evening  blends, 
And  Autumn's  pale  leaves  quiver, 
Then  flee 
To  me, 

The  forms  that  we 
So  loved  in  days  departed; 
With  jest 
And  song, 
The  happy  throng 
With  which  life's  toils  we  started; 
When  Summer's  hues  depart, 

And  Autumn's  days  draw  near, 
Old  memories  thrill  the  heart, 
And  faded  forms  appear. 


55 


CANZONET. 


Life  to  thee  is  dark  and  dreary, 

Anguish  reigns  within  thy  breast ; 
Thou  art  lonely,  sad  and  weary, 
Seekest  thou  a  place  of  rest  ? 
A  refuge  is  found, 
Low  in  the  ground, 
For  the  heart  by  sorrow  oppress'd. 


56  CANZONET. 

Traveler,  lonely  and  forsaken, 

Yield  thou  not  to  fell  despair ; 
Prospects  bright  for  thee  awaken — 
Heaven !  thy  resting  place  is  there. 
Awhile  wilt  thou  sleep 
In  the  grave  so  deep, 
But,  waking,  Heaven's  bright  glories  share 


57 


SHADOWS. 


Shadows  on  the  ceiling, 
Shadows  on  the  floor, 

Shadows  where  no  shadows  were 
In  the  days  of  Yore. 


Shadows  in  the  window, 

Shadows  in  the  hall, 
Shadows  where  the  sunbeams 

Used  to  brighten  alL 

5 


58  SHADOWS. 

Shadows  on  the  river, 
That  so  gaily  flowed, 

Sparkling  in  the  sunbeams 
By  the  winding  road. 


Shadows  in  the  meadow, 

Shadows  in  the  vale, 
Where  the  blue-eyed  violet  blooms, 

And  the  lily  pale. 


Shadows,  shadows  everywhere, 
That  may  ne'er  depart, 

But  the  deepest  shadow  lies 
On  the  aching  heart. 


59 


SIMILIES. 


The  winds  sigh  round  the  mountain  height, 
Where  the  snow  is  deep  and  white, 
There,  the  violets,  opening 
Their  bright  petals,  hailed  the  Spring, 
Long  ago. 

There  the  birds  their  matins  sung — 
There  the  wild  arbutus  sprung — 
There  by  shower  and  sunshine  nursed. 
Buds  and  blossoms  opened  first, 

Long  ago, 


60  SIMIUES. 

So,  around  this  heart  of  mine 
Childhood's  dreams  no  longer  twine, 
And  the  hopes  we  fondly  cherished, 
Like  these  blossoms,  faded,  perished, 
Long  ago. 


61 


MUTABILITY. 


The  cherished  ones  of  earth  have  passed 

Away ;  it  is  a  fearf  al  blow ; 
And  o'er  our  hearts  a  shade  is  cast, 

Which  few  may  ever  know ; — 
But  all  our  sighs  and  tears  are  vain — 
The  lost  may  ne'er  return  again. 

The  hopes  we  nursed  in  early  years 

All  withered,  as  the  flowers 
That '  neath  the  beams  of  May  sprung  up 

Refreshed  by  April  showers ; 
But  oh,  to  sigh  for  those  were  vain — 
For  childhood's  hopes  come  not  again. 


62  MUTABILITY 

Decay  is  traced  on  all  we  see  • 
Where'er  we  turn  our  eyes, 

The  beautiful  are  fading, 
As  fade  the  sunset  skies ; 

We  look  for  those  loved  forms  in  vain, 

For  blighted  hopes  bloom  not  again. 


63 


TO 


They  who  sow  and  they  who  reap, 
When  the  snn  is  shining  bright, 

Little  think  of  those  who  keep 

Vigils  o'er  their  fields  at  night. 


Forms  that  have  for  ages  slept 

In  the  grave  so  dark  and  cold, 

Rise,  when  fades  away  the  light, 
And  their  ghostly  revels  hold. 


64  TO 

Winds  thro'  forest  branches  sighing, 
May  not  their  sad  tones  repeat ; 

And  the  faded  leaves,  low  lying, 
Bustle  not  beneath  their  feet. 


They  who  sow  and  they  who  reap, 
When  the  sun  is  shining  bright, 

Little  think  of  those  who  keep 

Vigils,  o'er  their  fields  at  night. 


65 


OH!  MEMORY  CEASE  AWHILE. 


Oli !  Memory  cease  awhile, 

Let  the  Past  be  all  forgot ; 
Recall  nor  frown  nor  smile, 

And  oh,  remind  us  not 
Of  the  bright  hopes  and  dreams 

We  cherished  long  ago : 
More  bright  the  Past,  more  bitter  seems 

Our  present  care  and  wo . 


66  OH,    MEMORY  CEASE   AWHILE. 

) 

Oh,  Memory  o'er  the  Past 

We  pray  no  longer  brood, 
Our  spirits  are  downcast, 

We  long  for  solitude ; 
Blot,  blot  each  gentle  look 

That  friendship  ever  wore ; 
Close  thy  once  treasured  book 

And  let  us  read  no  more. 


67 


THE  YEARS. 


Oh,  where  will  be  the  birds  that  sing, 
When  a  hundred  years  are  flown? 
The  sweet  flowers  that  are  blossoming, 
When  a  hundred  years  are  gone  ? 
The  happy  child, 
The  spirit  wild, 
The  silvery  tone 
Of  some  loved  one, 
Oh,  where  will  be  the  spirit  free 
And  the  smiles  of  love  that  now  we  see, 
When  a  hundred  years  are  gone. 

And  who  will  know  where  we  have  dwelt, 
When  a  hundred  years  have  flown  ? 


THE  YEARS.  68 

What  thrills  of  grief  and  joy  we've  felt, 
When  a  hundred  years  are  gone  ? 
Our  smiles  and  tears, 
Our  hopes  and  fears, 
Our  hours  of  grief, 
Of  pleasure  brief; 

Oh,  who  will  note  our  smiles  and  tears, 
Our  joys  and  griefs,  our  hopes  and  fearsr 
When  a  hundred  years  are  flown  ? 

Our  graves  will  all  forgotten  be 

When  a  hundred  years  are  flown ; 
No  one  will  think  of  you  or  me, 
When  a  hundred  years  are  gone  ; 
And  our  bright  dreams, 
Like  summer  beams, 
Will  all  decay 
And  pass  away ; 

And  this  gay  world  will  busy  be, 
And  give  no  thought  to  you  or  me, 
When  a  hundred  years  are  flown. 


69 


THE  WORLD  OF  DREAMS. 


Far  far  away  from  this  world  of  Care 

Where  the  heart  may  never  joyless  be ; 
Where  leaves  are  green  and  skies  are  fair 

And  life  from  sorrow  is  ever  free, 
Is  a  world  of  never  ending  bliss, 

A  world  that  with  beauty  forever  teems  $ 
Oh,  how  unlike  that  world  and  this — 

This  world  of  Sorrow — that  world  of  Dreams. 


70  THE  WORLD   OP   DREAMS. 

The  living  there  with  the  faded  meet, 

And  parted  souls  together  stray  : 
And  moments  depart  as  shadows  fleet, 

In  that  world  of  love,  far,  far  away ; 
Along  through  deep  and  shadowy  groves, 

And  by  the  side  of  murmuring  streams, 
At  twilight  dims,  my  spirit  roves, 

In  that  distant  world,  that  world  of  Dreams. 

And  not  alone,  oh,  not  alone, 

Congenial  spirits  are  there  with  mine  ; 
Spirits  long  since  from  my  presence  gone, 

To  a  world  unknown  to  the  blight  of  Time;, 
The  faded  cheek  is  rosy  there, 

And  the  dim  eye  bright  as  the  summer  beams,. 
And  a  youthful  hue  do  all  things  wear, 

In  that  world  of  Bliss,  that  world  of  Dreams 


Oh,  when  long  cherished  hopes  depart, 
And  the  joys  of  earth  neglected  lie ; 


THE   WORLD  OF  DREAMS.  71 

When  sorrow's  pangs  invade  the  heart, 
And  loved  ones  fade,  and  droop,  and  die, 

Away,  away,  to  the  world  of  Dreams 
My  stricken  spirit  for  solace  flies, 

And  'mong  those  vales  and  murmuring  streams, 
Enjoys  the  sweets  of  Paradise. 


72 


"  And  white  hands  in  the  distance, 
And  beckoning  to  the  unknown  country,  far  away.' 


Flowers  have  faded  in  the  valley — 
Leaves  have  fallen  from  the  tree ; 

Birds  that  filled  with  song  the  woodland, 
Now  are  singing  o'er  the  sea. 

Voices  that  were  filled  with  gladness, 
Now  are  silent  all,  and  still ; 

And  teardrops  of  profoundest  sadness, 
Do  the  mourner's  eyelids  fill. 

Weep  not — weep  not — the  departed 
Look  upon  us  from  above  ; 

And  are  waiting  to  embrace  us 
In  the  Land  of  Light  and  Love. 


73 


SPRING. 


The  Spring  is  coming,  coming,  coming, 

The  Spring  is  coming  again  ; 
Tho  bee  in  the  valley  is  humming,  humming, 

The  sun  shines  warm  thro'  the  window  pane. 
The  buds  are  swelling,  swelling,  swelling, 

The  buds  are  swelling  on  every  tree  ; 
And  round  our  dwelling  the  birds  are  telling 

How  fair  the  leaves  and  flowers  will  be. 
6 


Spring  is  coming,  coming,  coming, 

The  snow  is  melting  on  the  hill ; 
Violets  in  the  glen  upspringing — 

Adder-tongues  beside  the  rill. 
Sounds  of  gladness,  gladness,  gladness. 

Now  are  echoing  far  and  near ; 
Dispelling  every  shade  of  sadness, 

For  the  Queen  of  Spring  is  "here, 


75 


WE  ARE  BROTHERS. 


We  are  brothers — we  are  brothers — 

To  one  goal  our  footsteps  tend — 
Then,  as  thro'  life's  paths  we  wander, 

Let  us  be  each  other's  friend. 
What  though  tempests  dark  assail  us  ? 

What  though  rugged  is  our  path  ? 
Our  brave  hearts  will  never  fail  us, — 

Heedless  of  the  tempest's  wrath. 


76  WE    ARE    BROTHERS. 

We  arc  brothers — we  are  brothers — 

Wanderers  in  this  world  of  care  ; 
Many,  many  are  our  sorrows, 

Yet  we  never  will  despair. 
We  will  hope  and  hope  forever 

For  a  brighter,   sunnier  day  ; 
When  the  clouds  that  round  us  gather, 

All  will  melt  and  pass  away. 

We  are  brothers — we  are  brothers — 

Pilgrim  wanderers  are  we  here  ; 
Let  us  then  with  words  of  gladness, 

Strive  our  lonely  path  to  cheer. 
One  bright  star  is  ever  shining, 

In  the  sky,  our  pathway  o'er ; 
And  that  star  knows  no  declining — 

Hope's  bright  star  beams  evermore. 


77 


MARY. 


It  is  a  bitter  winter  night, 
The  sky  is  clear  the  stars  are  bright, 
And  ghastly  in  their  silver  light, 
The  stone  that  marks  the  holy  place, 
Where,  Mary  of  the  radiant  face, 
Sleeps  quietly  in  Death's  embrace. 


78 


MARY. 

Pale  flowrets  all  about  her  bloomed, 
And  every  wandering  breeze  perfumed, 
When  first  we  laid  her  down  to  rest, 
And  piled  the  earth  upon  her  breast ; 
But  coldly  now  the  north  winds  blow. 
Over  the  deepening  drifts  of  snow, 
And  sadder  grow  our  hearts  the  while. 
Unblest  by  her  angelic  smile. 


The  grave  is  deep  I  calm  is  her  sleep  ! 
Why  should  we  o'er  her  ashes  weep  ? 
Off  from  her  unsullied  brow, 
The  raven  hair  has  fallen  now  ; 
Her  cheek  with  dust  is  mingling,  and 
How  pale  and  cold  her  lily  hand  ! 
Alas,  alas  that  Death  should  tear 
The  loved  one  from  our  arms,  and  bear 
Her  to  the  grave  to  moulder  there. 


79 


AN  EXTRACT. 


Waterfall !  majestic  !  proud  ! 
Thundering  as  the  tempest  loud  I 
Shades  from  the  unforgotten  Past, 
Through  thy  mists  are  fleeting  fast. 

The  loved,  the  lost,  the  young,  the  gay: 
Smiling  as  when  they  passed  away — 
The  aged,  and  the  sad  and  cold, 
Mournful   as  in  the  days  of  old — 
To  memory  dost  thou  recall, 
Bright  magic  mirror !  Waterfall ! 


80  AN    EXTRACT. 


The  shades  that  hover  o'er  the  past 
As  I  gaze  011  thee,  aside  are  cast, 
And  the  joyous  light  of  departed  years, 
Tn  thee,  oh  Waterfall,  appears. 


81 


SLEIGHING  SONG 


Away  o'er  the  snow  how  swiftly  we  go, 

Away  o'er  the  snow  go  we  ; 
With  the  singing  BELLES  and  the  ringing  BELLS, 

Oh,  winter's  the  time  for  me. 
The  stars  shine  bright  in  the  upper  air, 

Where  the  white  clouds  wander  slow, 
But  we  look  not  above  for  the  stars  that  are  there, 

The  brightest  are  beaming  below. 


SLEIGHING    SONG. 

Away  o'er  the  snow  how  swiftly  we  go, 

Away  o'er  the  snow  go  we  ; 
No  intruder  is  nigh  with  a  curious  eye, 

And  the  "  old  folks"  cannot  see 
How  we  jest  and  sing  while  the  sleigh  "bells  ring 

So  merrily  on  the  air  ; 
Then  let  us  forget  each  sorrowing  thought. 

And  banish  each  shade  of  care. 


82 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  PRINTER. 


The  Printer  bends  o'er  his  case, 

His  brow  is  wrinkled  with  care  ; 
And  his  heart  grows  sick  and  his  voice  grows  thick, 

As  he  sings  the  Song  of  Despair. 

Type  !  type  !  type  ! 
Oh,  happy  am  I  to  know, 

My  life  is  not  a  type  of  all 
The  lives  men  lead  below. 


84  THE    SONG    OF    THE    PRINTER. 

From  dawn  till  late  at  night, 
[  stand  in  this  lonely  room, 

And  columns  I  set  but  who  will  set 
A  column  o'er  my  tomb  ? 


Oh,  little  they  think,  who  read 
The  papers  day  "by  day, 

Of  that  which  racks  the  Printer's  frame, 
And  wastes  his  form  away. 


Type  !  type  !  type  ! 
Oh,  happy  am  I  to  know, 

My  life  is  not  a  type  of  all 
The  lives  men  lead  below. 


Oh  !  for  a  walk  in  the  fields  ! 
Oh  !  for  a  glance  at  the  flowers  ! 

Oh  !  for  the  singing  birds  ! 
Oh  !  for  life's  "  happy  hours  !" 


TUB    SONG    OP    THE    PRINTBE.  85 

Oil !  for  the  tones  of  love, 
The  voices  soft  and  low, 

That  fell  so  sweetly  on  my  ear 
In  th'  days  of  long  ago. 

The  Printer  bent  o'er  his  case, 

His  brow  was  wrinkled  with  care, 
And  his  heart  grew  sick  and  his  voice  grew  thick, 

As  he  sung  the  Song  of  Despair. 


86 


ALONE. 


Alone,  alone, 

Unloved,  unknown, 
I  roamed  the  world  till  she  was  mine, 
Till  she, the  gentle  Isabel,whose  thoughts  wore  all  divine,, 

Consented  to  be  mine. 

And  then  no  more, 

I  wandered  o'er 

The  world,  for  happiness  I  found 
In  a  sweet  cot  which  high  hills  did  surround, 

Eor  there  did  love  abound. 

Alone,  alone, 

Unloved,  unknown, 

Praying  for  death — Life's  cheerless  path  I  tread, 
For  she,  the  gentle  Isabel,  is  sleeping  with  the  Dead, 

Is  sleeping  with  the  Dead. 


GRAZIELLA. 


She  dwelt  beside  the  silver  stream, 

That  murmurs  through  the  dell ; 
Her  life  was  like  a  pleasant  dream,     ;/j 

That  no  harsh  sounds  dispel ; 
Like  the  wild  rose  that  buds  and  blooms 

Some  unknown  path  beside, 
Or  like  the  star  that  first  illumes 

The  sky,  at  eventide. 


88  GRAZIELLA. 

She  lived — she  died — -no  solemn  bell 

Proclaimed  her  spirit  free  ; 
But  lonely  is  that  silent  dell, 

And  sorrow  dwells  with  me, — 
Like  the  wild  rose  that  buds  and  blooms. 

Some  unknown  path  beside, 
And  fades,  unseen  by  mortal  eye, 

So  lived  she,  so  she  died. 


89 


WHEN  I  LEFT  MY  NATIVE  MOUNTAINS. 


When  I  left  my  native  mountains, 

Fast  the  tears  of  sorrow  fell  ; 
For  my  cot  among  those  mountains, 

Dearer  was  than  tongue  may  tell. 
Murmuring  brooks  and  sparkling  fountains  — 

Violets  "blooming  in  the  dell  — 
They  my  teachers  —  'inong  those  mountains 

Long  I  hoped  in  peace  to  dwell. 


90  WHEN   I   LEFT   MY   NATIVE   MOUNTAINS. 

When  I  left  my  native  mountains, 

Fancy  left  me — and  the  spell 
Of  the  dreamy  days  of  childhood, 

Melted  with  the  last  farewell ; 
Still  I  hear  those  brooks  and  fountains, 

Murmuring  hi  the  shaded  dell ; 
Still  among  my  native  mountains,* 

I,  in  dreams  delight  to  dwell. 


91 


********* 


Basest  of  the  human  race — 

Thou  of  the  envenomed  tongue  ! 
Thou  art  like  some  nauseous  weed, 

Springing  up  fair  flowers  among. 
Virtue  flieth  from  thy  path — 

Beauty  withers  in  thy  sight, 
Thou  delightcst,  in  thy  wrath, 

Innocence  to  crown  with  blight. 
Keepest  thou  a  record  of 

The  hearts  by  thy  vile  glanders  wrung? 
Basest  of  the  human  race — 

Thou  of  the  envenomed  tongue. 


ELLA. 


To  one  more  fair  than  aught  beside. 
To  one  who  soon  will  "be  a  bride, 
I  fill  this  cup  with  ruby  wine, 
And  thank  the  donor  and  the  vine. 

Farewell,  farewell,  oh  Ella  fair, 
Farewell  to  thee  and  thine, 

Weeping,  I  fill  this  goblet  up, 
Weeping,  I  quaff  the  wine. 


ELLA.  93 

I  mind  me  of  a  pleasant  day 
That  glided  like  a  dream  away, 
When  thou  wert  by  my  side,  my  love, 
And  vowed  to  be  my  bride,  my  love  ; 

Farewell,  farewell,  oh  Ella  fair, 
Farewell  to  thee  and  thine, 

Weeping  I  fill  this  goblet  up, 
Weeping,  I  quaff  the  wine, 

Oh,  falser  than  the  winds  that  blow 
When  autumn's  leaves  are  pale  and  low, 
Are  woman's  vows  and  woman's  heart, 
But  wine  a  sol  ace  may  impart. 

Farewell,  farewell  oh  Ella  fair, 
Farewell  to  thee  and  thine  ; 

Dreaming,  I  fill  this  goblet  up, 
Dreaming,  I  quaff  the  wine. 


94 


ADELE. 


There  is  grandeur  in  thy  air, 

Adele,  Adele, 
There  are  jewels  ia  thy  hair, 

Adele ; 
Golden  bracelets  on  thy  arras, 

Adele,  Adele, 
Lovers  whisper  of  thy  charms, 

Adele. 


ADELE.  95 


Dark  as  raven's  wing,  thy  hair, 

Adele,  Adele, 
And  thy  check  is  fresh  and  fair, 

Adele ; 
Graceful  are  thy  motions,  all, 

Adcle,  Adele, 
Light  as  fairy's,  thy  foot  fall, 

Adele. 
Cupid  launches  many  a  dart 

From  thine  eye,  Adele, 
But  thine  is  not  a  woman's  heart, 

Adele. 


YB   (3598 


M191894 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


